Sloshed and Sober
Back to 2010 Logs Goa Slipstream When it comes to getting utterly sloshed, Goa is an efficient machine. He's been down in the Tina some few breems now, ever since he got back inside from his cycle's patrol. Typically he'd have face planted into recharge at this point, but apparently he has some reason to be highfiving one of his grease pit coworkers and choking down another shot of-- "... what passes for drink up 'ere," Goa laughs aloud, nearly doubling over his drink. "I'm just kiddin', it's better. Y'see 'ere I'm actually burning out my tanks 'stead of just rusting 'em." A thumbs up to the unmoved bartender. Well, if he's ever moved. Slipstream enters as she figured Goa would be here from the rather odd way the link is acting at the moment. She takes a seat next to him. "Sulking over losing to Starscream.. or this about Chimera?" she asks. Goa's antennae perk up, a finger held up like "hold on" to the other mech. He turns, leans back, waaaay back, looking at Slipstream upside down. "Fast one aintcha?" His hand switches to a shooing motion, then he pets at the edge of the seeker's wing like he hasn't seen it before. Maybe he hasn't from this angle. "Whyyyy would I be sulking?" He grins. Slipstream shifts a little to the wing stroke, "Oh I don't know.. maybe because you lost to mister I'm better than everyone so they should kiss my after burners." she murmurs softly. Goa takes his hand away, putting it to his chest mock-offendedly. "Ya wound me, Slippy." He sticks his lip out and shakes his head, but it's only an astrosecond before he's grinning and biting it again. "I di'unt lose, it was a tac...strate...stratactical victory." Goa starts to lose his balance and flaps his limbs wildly until he can bolt back upright. "Though, you put it that way, I thinkin' I should truck up to the labs and give him more trouble." The way his optics glow a bit redder could make you wonder if he's serious about that idea... Slipstream frowns a hint at the grounder. "Sure. Fine. Whatever helps you recharge Gooey." she remarks, shaking her head a bit, "Just don't go aggravate things please. You are already on Megatron's bad mech list." Goa looks vacant for a second, then snaps back into a wide grin. "Yeah, just a little." He turns back away with a creak, apparently addressing the bar. "One for the femme. I'm done." Self-control? A motion at Slipstream and a muffled conversation. "Yeah, the same." Looking at his back, Slip might notice that all the nicks and gashes in the mech's roofplate are filled in and polished over, giving it, finally, a nice glossy surface. He looks better than before his spat with Starscream, actually, though it could just be the awful lighting down here. Goa spins back around, planting his hands on the edge of his seat and leaning forward. "So. I nearly rip Sharscream's canopy off, then do'iz orders better than him, you think I'm sulking?" The bartender slides an ominously clear drink toward Slipstream and moves off. "Figured out why I'm 'live too." It casts a very gentle violet glow. "I di'n get to ask you," His optics stop drunkenly wandering, he seems to zero in with sudden clarity. "Nitrogear. What is up with that?" Slipstream of course knows where you went after Chimera got so oddly captured.. straight for Torque. She's already figuring that Robustus was notified by now about that particular visit. That mech is crafty and smart, also not bad looking either. This crosses the link a moment, then she murmurs, "So do you hug all the femmes you are friends with.. or is Torque special?" she asks. Then a smirk at his question, "Funny I don't recall Starscream caring one whit about any orders Megatron gives until it serves his purpose." she notes softly to the grounder, then glances at the drink, "Do I want to know what this is before I drink it?" She shrugs to the question, "Lucky." is all she says in reply. "No. Pro'lly not." Whatever it is, you can tell with a little prodding of the mech's net that it only took a couple shots for him to get this ... weird. And that it's some old mix. From Goa's past underground, maybe. On the other hand ... if you want to take what's going on in his head at face value, it's an unholy recipe refined in the bowels of Cybertron by a dramatic procession of the Unmaker's monks over a deep tone. Just a /little/ bit of noise on the line. Apparently, what /he/ can understand on the same link is amusing enough for him to cross his arms and still grin. His dental plates disappear though. "What's it to you?" Wait, no, there they are again. "Don't care about Starscream." A bad lie, he still does. He's tasted blood, so to speak. "Even if it don't rub him the wrong way, it's still funny." Slipstream takes a sip of the drink, whatever it really is... makes a little face but takes another sip anyway. "Just don't want to lose you is all." is all she can say. Pretty much covering the question and statement both with just those words alone. She leans back in her chair, taking yet another sip of that concoction you ordered for her. It burns. It also quickly encourages one to ignore that effect. "Awwww, Slip," He takes both his arms off the chair to disbalance forward and drape them gracelessly around your neck, "You know I'm unkillable, right?" His crest butts the side of your helmet, though it seems an unintentional klutziness. "An' there's a reason that. I've got help, your help. Not goin' anywhere." Goa gives up and rests his chin there. He whispers. "It's the beard, huh?" Slipstream grimaces at the burning sensation the drink produces, setting the glass on the table in front of her. Despite the way Goa throws his arms around it, it comforts a little nonetheless. "Wasn't aware of that." she offers and nudges your helmet back, smiling a bit at your admitting its because of her help you are so.. even if it is a bit silly to state one is unkillable. "Part of it." Goa reaches up and runs a finger down your nasal ridge, like he hasn't seen that from that angle before, either. A twitch of the antennae -- something suddenly occurs to him, though he won't -- or is too soused to -- let slip what it is before he speaks. His optic ridges use the time to angle up plaintively. "You lost. You, did lose. You okay?" Never thought to ask. He seems less confident for the realization, and looks over his shoulder with wide optics. Slipstream smiles a hint more at the touch, cocking her head a little at the odd way you are showing your affection here in the Tina. "I lost. I'm fine with that. Nitrogear impressed me. Impressed Megatron more. Then Shred lost to him.. so he must have been putting in a lot of practicing plus was lucky." she moves a hand to stroke against one of your thighs. "Are you okay?" He doesn't seem to notice that he isn't alone. Not until that little break of looking away in paranoia, anyway, which he's still on, staring into space -- he jerks his face back forward when you touch his leg. "I'm great. When am I not okay?" A dual meaning simultaneously transmitted. He looks over at your drink, optics still more bright and observant than they were. Then he stares squarely at you. His tone, the color -- it's like he thinks he's being watched. Not the syk kind of paranoia, either, the Goa kind of paranoia. It's kind of intensified under whatever this stuff is. Slipstream notices the glance to the drink, reaching for it so she can take a couple more sips. she notes over the link. Still pretty sure it’s more about Chimera than Starscream. Though that next link question gives her pause as she finishes that drink off. Goa looks between you and the bar rather spastically. He smiles innocently. "We do what we gotta to stay alive. You said." Non-sequitur on its own, but when taken in context ... Is that what he thinks? He slumps back, a little surprised and forlorn when you stand so suddenly. One hand goes to his subspace to find the credits to set with the tab ... he counts them. Frowns. Sets them down, then digs in his cab... "...aha." A couple spare chips rolling around in there are apparently enough to polish off the bill. Then he stands straight up and motions to accompany you out. On the way, a couple other rollers try to hail his attention -- Goa doesn't notice, possibly because he's already half-offline. But it would seem that standing up to an unpopular commander gets optics on a mech, winner or underdog ... Slipstream nods, "We do." she agrees, moving to head out. She notes the waves from the other mechs, "Recharge for this one. He'll talk later." she tells them with a little smile and looks back at him as he follows her back to the barracks and some recharge time. she muses. Goa follows his way back on programming alone. Whatever IS bothering him, it's apparent he's trying his best not to think. To the point that he doesn't quite catch the complaint, or doesn't take the usual precautions -- when Slipstream gets to her berth, he crashes right there, roughly a green-and-orange cube nestled against the wall. There's a little bit of processing flitting by, if you can catch it. Nonchalantness. That he has a specific reason -- albeit it's unspecified -- not to be secretive this cycle. He wants the attachment to be known. He isn't offline just yet, and his red optics roll to track you lazily, like he is far too comfortable and has no intention of being moved. Category:Logs Category:2010 Logs Category:Goa's Logs Category:Slipstream's Logs